


Don Chéad Uair

by FoxNonny



Series: gra - dilseacht - cairdeas [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Goes Without Saying, Like just a LITTLE bit, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, get wreckt mahanon lavellan, it's eight thousand words of smut okay, kind of... I mean there's plot but also not really?, oh also praise!kink, some bdsm overtones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxNonny/pseuds/FoxNonny
Summary: Mahanon Lavellan is most certainly ready to ride the Bull. However, when said Bull discovers that this is Mahanon's first time riding anything, certain logistics are called into question, and the plan changes a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this piece means "the first time," and the title of the series (which - holy crap guys it's a series now because people asked for more Mahanon so y'all are getting more Mahanon) means "love, loyalty, friendship," and is kind of a common Irish phrase. 
> 
> (EDIT NOTE: gra dilseacht cairdeas is also known as the claddagh, like claddagh rings, to be more accurate with my lackluster explanation above)
> 
> Did I mention this is over eight thousand words of smut? Y'all were warned.

Mahanon stretches as he climbs the stairs to his chambers, wincing as his spine creaks. A single night's rest in a proper bed since returning to Skyhold has not been enough for his body to forget the aches and knots of constant riding, fighting, and sleeping on bedrolls over rocks and tree roots. Spending the day poring over the War Table with his advisors to catch up on all the mind-numbing political drivel he's missed in his absence has not helped matters. 

At least on the road... at least there, he had Bull and Dorian to keep him company.

(And Varric, but given that he seemed content to hang back and record the conversation and flirtations between the three of them, he hardly counted. And at any rate, it was hard for Mahanon to have eyes for anyone else.)

Though he'd confessed his feelings for them over a month ago after a misadventure in the Hissing Wastes, it was mutually decided amongst the three of them that the road was not the place to... consummate things, so to speak. For the most part they kept to their own tents (save the occasional chilly night, where they could almost ostensibly argue that proximity to one another was necessary for survival), and their treatment of one another varied little in public. Bull and Dorian still bickered (though this sometimes led to the two of them taking the argument elsewhere, and returning a little quieter and with Dorian's hair and clothing slightly out of place), Dorian still teased Mahanon good-naturedly (though the teasing was often followed with a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, if the rest of the company was out of sight), and Bull still flirted wickedly with anything that moved (though he'd developed a fondness for following this flirting with a smack on Mahanon's rump, whether they were with the rest of the company or no).

All in all, they were about as discrete as an Orlesian theatre troupe, and it's really no wonder that Mahanon received as many bizarre looks as he did throughout the meeting today: curiosity from Josephine, a knowing smirk from Leliana, and a somewhat clueless but certainly perturbed stare from Cullen. 

He doesn't care. He probably should care. But he doesn't.

Still, now that they're back home... he's not exactly sure where to take things from here. _Do I approach Dorian and... what, ask him to dinner? Invite Bull over for tea and cakes?_  

He's never done this before, is the problem. He's had his fancies before, and there was a memorable encounter with a human boy when he was barely grown that was truthfully not much more than a frantic fumble in the forest near a small village, all hungry kisses and wandering hands that ended far too quickly for his own liking, but this...

Well, this is certainly more than _that._  And in such matters, the force of his desires far outmatches the breadth of his experience.

Mahanon's mind is consumed with this, and puzzling over his next move, when he reaches the top of the landing and turns into his chambers, only to break from his thoughts with a sharp intake of breath, stopping short and staring at the sight of the Iron Bull lounging back on his bed as if he owned the whole damned castle.

"So," says Bull, a wicked glint in his eye. "I've caught the hints. You want to ride the Bull."

Mahanon realizes that he's gaping a little, and recovers with a short laugh. "Hints? Creators, Bull, you know I've been throwing myself at you since we first met."

"To be fair, I just thought you were a frisky little elf," Bull says with a shrug, smirking. "But now we're here, and things are a little more private for you- I mean, they're probably still gonna hear you from the courtyard, but it's better than being in a tent in the middle of camp."

Mahanon can feel the blood rushing to his face and, well, other places, as he says, "Are they, now? Going to hear me?"

Bull grins and stands, and _fenedhis,_  there has never been a time that Mahanon has been unaffected by how Bull towers above him, how large and _strong_  he is. It's intimidating, a little dangerous, and it leaves his mouth dry from how badly he wants this. 

"I think so," Bull says lowly, coming to stand close in front of Mahanon, forcing him to look up to meet his gaze. "That is, if you're still interested."

Mahanon closes what little distance remains between them, pressing his body against Bull and letting a hand come to rest on Bull's chest, trailing his fingers over the tough, scarred skin. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm giving you a fair chance, Boss," Bull says, seeming utterly, _frustratingly_  unaffected as Mahanon continues to touch, even daring a roll of his hips against Bull's thigh. "I like things rough. I like control. It's not for everyone."

Mahanon wraps his arms around Bull's torso, pressing his lips to Bull's chest, breathing deep. Far from being put off by Bull's words, a warm burn of arousal is stoked low in Mahanon's belly at the images Bull's warnings seem to promise. "I want it. Want _you_."

Quick as a flash, Mahanon finds his wrists caught up in Bull's grip, nearly tripping as Bull backs him up against the wall and pins him there, _hard_. The gasp wrenched from his throat at this turns into a groan as Bull pushes his thigh between his legs, giving him a punishing amount of pressure that's somehow _perfect._

"Are you sure?" Bull asks.

Mahanon squirms in his grip, hips hitching against Bull's leg as he half-whines, half-growls in frustration. " _Take_  me, damn you."

Bull blinks, then laughs aloud, the deep thunder of his voice causing Mahanon to shiver against him. "Maybe I had you pegged from the get-go. Maybe you are a frisky little elf, yeah?"

"I'm _frustrated_ ," Mahanon says, honestly a little surprised himself by his boldness. He blames Bull for being so maddeningly close, so close to giving him what he's wanted- no, _needed_ , and being far too damned slow about it. "You've been playing very hard to get."

"And whose fault is that?" Bull murmurs, taking the point of Mahanon's chin in a firm but gentle grip, tilting his face up and fuck, Mahanon nearly melts under the heat of Bull's gaze. "Pretty thing like you, I figured you'd already been snatched up. Aw, look at that, you're blushing."

"Am not," Mahanon says, but it's a downright lie and he knows it - his cheeks are on fire, and he's not sure how long he's going to stay coherent if Bull keeps _saying_  things like that. "And _have_  not. You'd be the first."

"The first of the Inquisition to tumble with the Inquisitor? I like that." Bull keeps Mahanon's face angled up towards him, but spreads his enormous hand to bury his fingers in Mahanon's wild hair, and again Mahanon finds himself losing his breath a little at the sheer _size_  of Bull. "Do I get a special award for it, or something? Like a big gold medal? Maybe I should ask Josephine about it. Or Cullen, just to watch him squirm."

"The first _ever_ , and I really would rather you didn't, as fun as it is to torture our fine Commander," Mahanon laughs, though this causes him to shift sensitive parts of himself against Bull's thigh, and his laugh quickly turns to a groan. "Bull, _please._ "

But Bull has gone rather still, and while there is still good humour and undeniable lust in his eyes as Mahanon squirms against him, his gaze has gone a little keen. More analytical. "By 'first,' you mean...?"

"I think it's perfectly obvious what I mean, isn't it?" Mahanon says impatiently. 

"You've never fucked." Bull squints. "Like, at _all?_ "

" _Fenedhis lasa_ , _kaff- no_ , I have not, but I'd very much like to _now_ ," Mahanon says. "Do you want a medal? I will make you a medal. I'm pretty sure as Inquisitor I can requisition a medal if it helps."

"No need to get worked up, little guy, you're giving off sparks," Bull says, sounding more amused than anything else, and Mahanon realizes that the slight metallic tang to the air and odd crackling noise is coming from him.

Specifically, his hair. Like many things - leaves, branches, and memorably once a very small bird - his lightning magic tends to like to nest in his curls.

"Sorry," Mahanon mutters, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again as he tries to call his elemental magic back into himself.

Bull laughs, and much to Mahanon's disappointment, releases his wrists. He takes advantage of his free hands to smooth his hair down a little, gathering sparks in his palms and pulling them back beneath his skin. He's still hard as anything, and the weight of Bull is still _there_  between his legs, and it's all so unbelievably frustrating he could weep.

"Hey," says Bull softly, tracing the pad of his enormous thumb over Mahanon's cheek. "I'm glad you told me, okay? I'm just thinking logistics."

" _Logistics?_ "

"Boss, if you haven't noticed, you're tiny. Like, bite-size." Bull rests his hand on Mahanon's waist, as if to make his own point - Mahanon looks a little like a child's doll in comparison, and it's probably a sign that he's been knocked around the head a few times too many that he finds this exciting instead of intimidating. "I'm not saying it couldn't work, but I really don't think a qunari reaver is your best bet for a good first experience. Well, not if you want to walk straight ever again. And anyway, there's other shit to consider."

"You're sure you're not overthinking it?" Mahanon says. Clearing his palms of sparks first, he lays his hands flat against Bull's chest, feeling the strong thudding of Bull's heart against his skin. "Bull, I really don't know if I can be any clearer about this. _I want you_. I've wanted you since I met you, wanted you to- to touch me, to _show_  me. I really don't give a damn about 'logistics.'"

"Yeah, well, that's why you've got me," Bull says, and then very suddenly Mahanon is no longer standing, but being slung up into Bull's arms and carried over to his bed. 

" _Oi_ , there, I'm not a- _hey!_ "

This last word is more of a choked-out squawk, as Mahanon finds himself abruptly airborne, Bull tossing him onto the mattress. He bounces into an ungainly sprawl, glaring up at Bull from a mess of blankets and pillows. "' _I'm not a sack of potatoes,_ ' is what I was _going_  to say."

"You'd be a cute sack of potatoes if you were. But it's fun, tossing you around." Bull reaches a massive hand down and ruffles Mahanon's hair. "You stay right there, okay? I'll be back soon."

"And why should I do that?" Mahanon says, folding his arms and sticking his chin out a little. It's playful, but there is a very real part of him that can't help but feel more than a little dejected by Bull's departure. 

Bull, who despite only possessing the one eye seems to see quite a lot, takes a seat on the mattress and slides his hand around the nape of Mahanon's neck, and pulls him into a searing kiss. 

And honestly, whether it's just in how good Bull is at this or how desperately Mahanon wants him, Bull's lips seem to crowd out all the doubts and insecurities and uncertainties in Mahanon's mind. He relaxes into Bull, following the guiding force of Bull's mouth against his, groaning softly as Bull's tongue teases at his parted lips, a soft hint of teeth against his skin surprising a gasp from Mahanon's chest.

He whimpers when Bull pulls away, aching and needy, and Bull shushes him with a softer, chaster kiss against the corner of his mouth.

"Don't you worry, Boss," Bull murmurs, a smile in his voice. "I'm gonna see you're taken care of."

And then he straightens, and he walks away, leaving Mahanon desperate and wanting and wondering what the fuck Bull means by that.

-

It's really only a quarter of an hour later or so, but it feels like days until Mahanon hears the door at the base of the stairwell open, and a familiar voice comes floating up the steps.

"-important meeting, fine, but it was also rather an important _book_  I was reading, and you have this thing, Bull. You have this thing where despite having been a spy, you demonstrate a remarkable lack of _subtlety-_  hello, darling."

This last is directed at Mahanon, accompanied by a wide, heart-stopping smile as Dorian tops the stairs, Bull close on his heels.

Mahanon sits up, narrowing his eyes at Bull a little. "'Important meeting?'"

"We were in the library, Boss," Bull says with a shrug, as Dorian takes a seat on the chaise lounge closest to Mahanon's bed. "I was trying to be- well, as Dorian would say, ' _subtle._ '"

"Appreciated," Mahanon says, mouth twitching a little.

"I take it this isn't a strategy meeting, then?" Dorian says dryly. 

"Depends on how you look at it," Bull says, grinning, and Mahanon groans. "Boss, you wanna share something with the crowd?"

"It's not- Creators, should I have Josephine contact the heralds? Proclaim it to all of Skyhold?" Bull snorts, and Dorian just stares blankly. "Dorian, Bull has brought you here because- well, we were going to-"

Mahanon stalls a little on the words, which is ridiculous because despite lack of experience, he certainly isn't _shy._  But somehow it's all become terribly awkward, now.

Dorian, luckily, catches on with his customary deftness and speed, his eyebrows raising a little. "Ah." Then, grinning, he adds, "And you felt the party wasn't complete without me? I'm flattered."

"I mean, yes, there is that," Mahanon says, smiling at Dorian, then Bull. "I am glad you're here, that- alright, points to you then, Bull, that was a good call. But I still think you're being ridiculous about pretty much everything else."

"There's 'else?'" Dorian says, tilting his head.

"It- well, essentially, everything was going perfectly well and fine until _someone_  found out I've, um, never actually done this before, and got his big yellow pantaloons in a twist over it," Mahanon says, all in a bit of a rush.

There's an awkward silence, and Mahanon very much considers crawling into bed and suffocating himself with a pillow to escape it.   

Dorian swallows, and says, "By 'this,' you mean-?"

"Uh-huh," says Bull.

Dorian looks at Mahanon. Frowns. "Really? At _all?_ "

"Oh, for the love of- _look,_  the Dalish don't really see it the way humans do, or- well, from what I've heard, not how the Qunari do either. At least my clan didn't." Mahanon runs his hand through his hair, feeling sparks starting to build up in the curls again, and wills himself to reel his nerves in. "It seems like with humans, sex is some kind of life event, or something? And it's meant to change you somehow. But the Dalish, we don't differentiate between people who've done it, and people who haven't. And there was never anyone in my clan who I was interested in, and the Keepers and Firsts are usually kept sort of separate from everyone else anyway, and... well, I just haven't."

He finishes this little speech with a kind of helpless shrug.

"Dalish have pretty high sex drives though, typically, yeah?" Bull says.

"Do they really?" Dorian murmurs, glancing up at Bull.

"Shorter refractory periods. It's pretty great."

"I mean, _yes,_ " Mahanon says, feeling himself flushing red as his physiology is casually discussed by the two men he's been aching for this past year. "But that's- that's mostly once things actually get _started_ , I mean- we aren't just running around looking for something to- not all the _time._ And we have ways of dealing with it without-"

And there, that- that is right about when he realizes he should shut up, because now Dorian and Bull are looking at him with quite a _lot_  of interest. 

"By the Maker, he's adorable," Dorian says, smirking a little, and it's all Mahanon can do not to bury his burning face in his hands. "So is this... something you would want, then? I'm assuming Bull was understandably worried about the logistics of-"

"I'm banning the word 'logistics,'" Mahanon says crossly, folding his arms. "By Inquisitorial degree. It's gone forever from Common vocabulary."

"I'm relatively certain all the members of your War Councils would find themselves in very tricky linguistic conundrums were that the case," Dorian says, as Bull just chortles. "Still, question remains: This is something you _want_? Would you be more comfortable if just one of us were here, or-?"

" _Fenedhis lassa_ , is there to be a ceremony?" Mahanon says, exasperated. " _Yes,_  I am _very much attracted to both of you._  I would be quite happy to prance down this merry untraveled road hand-in-hand with two utterly ridiculous men. Do you need it in writing? Signed witnesses?"

"Careful, he gets staticky when he's annoyed," Bull murmurs to Dorian.

Mahanon scowls, and combs his fingers through his hair again, unsurprised to find more sparks gathering and coiling in his curls.

"There's... possibly a chance we _are_ being a little over-protective. Potentially." Dorian says, crossing over from the lounge to take a seat next to Mahanon on his mattress. "Sorry for that. You are a bit younger than us, and you've already got quite a lot on your shoulders, and- and you're making me have to say sentimental things, damn it. Bottom line, we care about you."

"And there's at least a hundred people who'd kill us if we broke the Inquisitor," Bull says cheerily, coming to sit at Mahanon's other side. Both Mahanon and Dorian wind up falling into Bull's side as the mattress dips dramatically under his weight, but Bull continues as if he doesn't notice. "Those are just people we know personally."

"You're making it very difficult to stay annoyed," Mahanon sighs, turning his head so his face is no longer squashed against Bull's elbow. "I wanted very badly to be annoyed, you know."

"I'm positively certain we will find new and fascinating ways to annoy you," Dorian says, trying unsuccessfully to straighten himself on the tilted mattress. "Though I believe that's more Bull's prerogative than mine."

"Says the mouthy 'Vint," says Bull, sounding very fond. To Mahanon, he says, "Do you have any questions for us? I don't know what Dalish education is like when it comes to sex, especially not your unconventional, non-procreative stuff, but-"

" _I read_ ," Mahanon says pertly. 

Dorian snorts. "My dear Inquisitor, is there a private collection of yours I should know about?"

"He was saying some pretty interesting things earlier about having to 'deal with' that Dalish drive," Bull says with a grin, wrapping an arm around Mahanon's waist and resting a large hand on his thigh. Mahanon shivers despite himself as Bull's hand slides up a little further. "Paints a pretty picture, doesn't it?"

"I do rather think it's something I'd like to see for myself," Dorian murmurs. He takes Mahanon's chin in his hand, and turns his face to kiss him. 

Mahanon wants to keep the banter going, wants to think of something witty to say, but it's suddenly very hard to think of anything at all when Dorian's kissing him like this, and he's got Bull's arm wrapped around him and his hand casually smoothing up his thigh, causing his legs to fall open almost a little helplessly in response.

"What should I do?" he finds himself asking, already breathless and starting to lose himself to the thoughtless haze of arousal overtaking him. "I- I mean I obviously know how it _works_ , but what... what would you like me to do for you?"

"You could relax, and let us take things from here," Dorian murmurs, lips pressed to Mahanon's ear and his hands already making short work of the buttons of Mahanon's shirt. "It might not be much of an 'occasion' in your eyes, but I think I speak for both Bull and myself when I say that we'd like you to enjoy yourself."

"Raises the odds of it happening again, for one thing," Bull says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the front of Mahanon's breeches. Mahanon promptly loses the ability to keep himself upright, arms turning utterly boneless, causing him to collapse back on his own mattress with a short yelp. "Aww."

"I-if you keep doing that I'm not going to l-last very long," Mahanon says, gritting his teeth and biting back whimpers as Bull continues to tease him, Dorian doggedly continuing his quest to relieve Mahanon of his shirt. 

"These are nice," Dorian says pleasantly, tracing the tip of his finger over the tattoos spilling across Mahanon's chest, grinning as Mahanon shivers and arches a little under his touch. "They look a little different from other Dalish art I've seen."

"Every clan has- _ah_ \- their own, um, style," Mahanon says a little breathlessly, feeling a little absurd discussing Dalish artistry as Dorian starts pressing his lips to the tattoos, and Bull moves his hand to palm him thoroughly through the cloth of his pants. "The art of the Sliabh-" he breaks off into a breathless groan as Dorian places his mouth over a nipple and sucks, tongue toying with the sensitive tip and causing all the words to fall right out the back of Mahanon's rapidly scrambling mind.

He feels a short tug on his hair, almost enough to hurt, and looks up to see Bull grinning down at him, something playful and heated and maybe a little dangerous in his eyes. "Go on."

Mahanon swallows. "The, um, the Sliabh- w-we were separated for a while and we- well, they, I-I suppose- they sort of developed a- a little differently. The knots- _shit..._ "

He trails off as Bull unlaces his breeches and slides them off, leaving him in nothing but his small clothes. Bull slips off the bed and kneels down in front of him. He closes his eyes, losing himself to sensation as Dorian continues to kiss and suck a path over the curling tattoos, and Mahanon wraps an arm around his shoulders, buries his hand in Dorian's hair, looking for something to ground him but also entirely content to let himself float away-

He jerks with a yelp as Bull bites his thigh, _hard_ , and it fucking hurts but not... not in a bad way. Fuck, actually, there's something really quite amazing about that spike of pain, even if it does knock him out of his daze.

Bull meets his wide eyes with a thoughtful smile. 

"Good to know," he says, more to himself it seems than to Mahanon, then adds, "You were saying?"

"Creators, Bull, I-" he breaks off into a whine as Dorian's lips find his throat, and it turns out his neck is quite a lot more sensitive than he thought. He finds himself appreciating, quite a lot, in a sort of delirious way, the brush of Dorian's moustache over his skin, and his mind starts running wild at the thought of feeling that odd, prickly brush of hair elsewhere on his body-

Bull sinks his teeth into his other thigh, harder this time, and the gasp this wrenches from Mahanon is part surprise, part pain, and part helpless pleasure that he honestly can't account for.

"Ass," Mahanon accuses, but even to his own ears the complaint is fairly weak. 

"Are you tormenting our dear Inquisitor, Bull?" Dorian asks mildly, smiling sweetly down at Mahanon and pressing his lips to Mahanon's wanting mouth again as he arches up to meet him.

"Maybe I'm just really curious about those tattoos," Bull says. He licks one of the bites, his tongue rough over sensitive skin, and Mahanon keens into Dorian's mouth at the sensation of it. "You can do it, Boss."

"He's an _ass_ ," Mahanon says again, whispering it against Dorian's lips.

"Oh, I know," Dorian murmurs back, kissing Mahanon's lips again before trailing over to start toying with the point of one of his ears, wringing a shocked and slightly betrayed little whimper from Mahanon as he adds, "I believe I warned you about him. And me. I _would_  like to hear more about your tattoos."

He slides the tip of his tongue along the long shell of Mahanon's ear, closing his teeth around the tip, and Mahanon shivers with a long, breathless moan before he's able to continue.

" _Both_  of you- damn it, _fine,_  alright. The knots, are-" his words tremble and stall as Bull kisses and bites at his terribly sensitive thighs, not quite as hard as before but certainly in a manner that is incredibly and terribly _distracting._  "Um. It's how our a-art evolved. The Sliabh is- _shit_ \- dedicated toAndruil, whereas the Keeper of Lavellan C-Clan, her allegiance lies with Mythal. She wanted my vallaslin to s-show that I'd truly become a member of the Lavellan clan, so I l-let her choose the vallaslin here-" he points to the branches of blood ink across his cheeks, "-but I found an artist who travelled with my birth clan for a time to do the rest- _bleeding thorns!_ "

This shout is directed at Bull, who's moved up from Mahanon's thighs to start mouthing at the front of his smallclothes, the heat of his mouth seeping through the cotton and driving Mahanon absolutely mad with need.

"So you were a bit of a rebel, then?" Dorian purrs, as Mahanon squirms and fights to catch his breath even as he feels Bull's tongue playing with him through the cloth and trying to find the words to beg, to plead with Bull to stop teasing him and pull his stupid smallclothes _off_  already. Preferably with his teeth. "I like the sound of that."

Mahanon can only whine in response. He reaches down to deal the the matter of his smallclothes himself, only to have Dorian catch his wrists in his hands and pin them to the bed.

The noise he makes at this is decidedly frustrated, and Dorian laughs. "Oh, Maker, we really are very mean, aren't we?"

" _Yes_ ," Mahanon scowls, but he melts a little as Dorian presses in for another kiss. "Both of you- you're both very _dressed,_ also."

"Does that annoy you?" Dorian murmurs, moustache tickling Mahanon's lips. Mahanon leans up into another kiss, thinking of Bull as he pulls Dorian's bottom lip between his teeth and bites, very gently, very aware that some of his teeth are a little sharper than a human's might be. He's rewarded with a low groan, and Dorian deepens the kiss, stealing his lip back and gently teasing his tongue over Mahanon's mouth. 

"It just seems a- _ah-_  little unfair," Mahanon says. His hips hitch involuntarily, pressing himself into Bull's mouth, only to have Bull pin him in place with a hand over his lower belly. He arches his fingers, dragging claw tips down over the thin skin of Mahanon's torso, and Mahanon shudders.

"He has a point," Bull says, leaning back from the front of Mahanon's smallclothes, still scratching Mahanon's stomach almost a little absently. Mahanon squirms at this, glad for a break from Bull teasing his cock but fucking _missing_  it, too. "Dorian?"

"Are you suggesting I disrobe?" Dorian says archly. "Maybe you should ask nicely."

Bull swats Dorian's ass with his free hand, and Dorian makes an utterly affronted sound and glares at Bull over his shoulder. " _Rude._ "

"That was me asking nicely," Bull shrugs, a wicked grin lighting up his scarred face. 

"Please?" Mahanon adds. Just in case it helps.

"You see, Bull? _Someone_  here has manners." Dorian releases Mahanon's wrists and starts in on the questionable amount of buckles and straps holding his shirt together. Mahanon props himself up on his elbows to watch.

"Yeah, Josephine's got him all trained up for that Orlesian ball," Bull says, and Mahanon groans.

"Please don't mention that," Mahanon says, putting a hand to his face but still peeking through his fingers to watch Dorian undress. "It's going to be awful. I have a list of two hundred names and titles I have to memorize before I even step foot in the palace, according to Leliana."

"Just look all big-eyed and sweet if you fuck up, and they'll give you a pass," Bull says. At Mahanon's doubtful look he adds, "Not like that. Less sarcastic. Hey, do you wanna try sucking Dorian off?"

It's such a wild change in subject matter that Mahanon's head spins for a moment. As he struggles to catch up, Dorian gets the last trappings of his shirt off and scolds Bull as he starts on his trousers. "You can't just _volunteer_  him for it."

"I was asking _nicely_ -"

"Yes." 

Both Dorian and Bull return their attention to Mahanon as he sits up, nodding eagerly. Then he bites his lip. "Um. I don't know how good I'll be, but I want to. If that's alright."

"'If that's alright,' he says," Dorian echoes dryly. "Well it would certainly be a _hardship_  to have an extremely pretty elf suck my cock, but I think I'm willing to make that sacrifice."

There's something utterly filthy about the way Dorian says "cock" with his plummy, high-class Tevinter tones, and Mahanon finds his mouth going utterly dry at the sound of it.

"Really though-" Mahanon tries again, because as much as he wants to do this for Dorian, he knows Dorian's probably had this done for him before by far more experienced men. 

"Relax, Boss, I'm gonna teach you how to do it," says Bull, patting his bare thigh. "Hey, you're not super attached to these or anything, right?"

He slips a fingertip under the hem of Mahanon's smallclothes and gives them a little questioning tug. Mahanon, still puzzling through what Bull intends by "teaching," answers, "Not really?"

"Oh dear," says Dorian.

Bull grins, and promptly rips Mahanon's smallclothes off, quite literally - he tosses the shreds of the garment over his shoulder as Mahanon stares at him, slack-jawed.

The shock of having the pants torn off him helps distract from the shock of being fully naked, all of a sudden, but it eventually catches up to him as Bull's eyes roam over his bare chest and lean, brown legs, lingering on all what's between them, specifically. Mahanon glances down and well, despite very genuinely _wanting_  this and not wanting to seem like some stereotype of a blushing, shy elf virgin (human erotica, he's discovered, really has a lot to answer for in that respect), the urge to cover himself overwhelms him for a moment, and he shifts to start to close his legs.

Predictably, Bull catches him by the knees, pressing them open again and slotting himself between them, his mouth really quite tantalizingly close to Mahanon's bare sex. "You're doing great, Boss. You look good."

The praise causes Mahanon's face to flush, right to the tips of his ears, and he swallows very hard indeed.

"So how exactly are we doing this?" Dorian says, sounding a little less blasé than he seemed moments ago. Mahanon looks up to find that Dorian is down to his own smallclothes, and he's staring down at Mahanon with an undeniable heat in his eyes. "I take it this is where _strategy_  comes in to play, and that's definitely your field of expertise, Bull."

"You get the last of your kit off, mage. Boss, lean back on your elbows a bit- yeah, like that. Good." 

Mahanon obeys easily, watching with great interest as Dorian slides his smallclothes down over his well-muscled legs, and while it's not something he's ever questioned, there's something suddenly incredibly intimidating with being faced with a man whose body is built like Dorian's. He's seen statues in Orlais of men that might not ever live up to the standard presented here, a perfect balance of strength and grace in every curve and angle of Dorian's form.

"Quite something, yeah?" Bull says quietly, like he knows what Mahanon is thinking. Like maybe he's thought it himself a few times.

"Shut up, you," Dorian says, but he sounds a little pleased. To Mahanon, he says, "Darling, you might want to pick your jaw back up off the bed."

Mahanon realizes he's gaping at Dorian quite idiotically, and slams his mouth shut. "Um. Sorry."

"Don't be," Dorian says, straddling Mahanon's chest and slipping a hand into his hair to play with his curls. Mahanon opens his mouth to warn Dorian about the sparks, only to watch as Dorian laughs and pulls a small current of lightning from his hair, letting the energy dance around his fingertips. It's utterly enchanting to watch, and Mahanon knows he's staring again but _Creators_ , he does not care. "Look what I found."

"You mages," Bull says, shaking his head. "If I get fried fucking one of you two, I'll make sure Krem comes up with some fitting revenge."

"I think we make him nervous, Mahanon, how sweet," Dorian says, grinning as he snaps his fingers and releases the current, causing it to burst into a shower of little sparks that tingle as they fall over Mahanon's chest. A little more seriously, he says, "You sure you want to do this? You don't have to."

Mahanon's a little worried he might snap his neck from how fervently he nods, but his mouth is watering with Dorian's cock so _close_ , and he honestly can't think of anything he'd want more right now than to taste Dorian on his tongue. Even if he's absolute rubbish at it. 

"Hey," says Bull softly, squeezing Mahanon's thigh. "Just do what I do, okay? Follow my lead."

Mahanon blinks, and is about to ask for clarification when Bull leans forward and takes him into his mouth.

The heat of Bull's mouth, the swipe of his rough tongue over Mahanon's cock; it's all incredibly overwhelming and for a moment all Mahanon can do is arch up on the bed, a strangled cry caught between gritted teeth. It takes him a few moments to remember himself, and Bull certainly doesn't help by finding a spectacularly sensitive area right under the head of his cock as if he knew it was there all along, teasing it expertly with the tip of his tongue. 

He feels Dorian's hand in his hair again, this time cradling the back of his head and helping him up, and through the haze of arousal Mahanon sees Dorian's erection - half hard and beautiful, thicker than Mahanon's but not too much longer, dark curls of hair cropped neatly at the base.

Mahanon feels Bull's lips around his own cock, still tonguing at that one spot that threatens to drive all coherent thought from Mahanon's head, and he leans up and carefully takes Dorian's length into his mouth.

Dorian groans lightly, as Mahanon echoes what Bull is doing to him, sliding his lips down along Dorian's erection, careful of his own sharp teeth as he takes more of Dorian into his mouth. It feels _right_  somehow, doing this, almost sort of familiar, and it's both fascinating and entirely erotic to feel Dorian hardening on his tongue.

He moans around Dorian as Bull carefully wraps his hand around the base of Mahanon's length - not his whole hand, Mahanon's not nearly long enough for that, and it's clearly meant more as a suggestion for Mahanon than anything else. Mahanon follows, wrapping his hand around Dorian's cock, right at the base as he continues to suck at the tip. Dorian puts his hand around Mahanon's, tightening his grip, and Mahanon starts to fall into an easy rhythm as he coaxes Dorian with his fist, licking and kissing the exposed part of Dorian's cock.

It's easier than he was expecting; easy, and reassuring to follow Bull motion for motion, copying Bull as he starts to massage his balls with his free hand. It's mostly just difficult balancing in this position, but Dorian helps him, holding him in place even as he starts to lost his breath under Mahanon's attentions, thighs starting to tremble a little, his voice shaking as he moans. 

"Good boy," he whispers, stroking Mahanon's hair and rocking forward a little, fucking into his fist and mouth, and the praise makes Mahanon's toes curl with want. 

Soon, however, it becomes hard to concentrate on what he's doing with Dorian, as heat pools in the pit of his stomach and Bull's ministrations start to cause involuntary reactions- moans he can't bite back, delightful shivers and gasps. He can feel sweat start to bead across his forehead, and he can barely hold himself up; if it weren't for Dorian's strength in keeping his head up, holding him in place, he'd be flat on his back and utterly useless, at the mercy of Bull's touch.

Bull pulls off him for a moment and murmurs something to Dorian, who laughs a little in response to whatever was said. Then, very gently, he eases Mahanon away from himself.

"Sorry-" Mahanon gasps, certain he did something wrong, only to be shushed with an elegant fingertip laid over his slick, swollen lips. 

"You were perfect," Dorian says, rearranging himself so he's sitting on the bed just behind Mahanon, guiding Mahanon's head into his lap. Mahanon follows, a little confused, breathless as Bull resumes his work. "We just thought we'd give you a chance to enjoy this. And anyway, I'm not quite ready for things to be over just yet."

"But-" Mahanon starts, only to break off into a pitched whine as Bull slides his lips right down to the root of him, the tip of Mahanon's cock nudging the back of Bull's throat. His hands come up to grip Dorian's arms, desperate for something solid under his hands as Bull pulls off slowly, the warmth of his mouth tight and so incredibly _good_  as he drags his tongue along the underside of Mahanon's length. "Fuck- _fuck-_ "

"Perfect," Dorian murmurs again, one hand nestling in Mahanon's hair as the other trails down over his chest, tracing the spiralling knots of tattoos, occasionally teasing at a nipple. The added stimulus makes Mahanon squirm and pant, and he knows he's very close. 

He tries to warn Bull, manages to get as far as saying "I'm-", then Bull presses the tip of his finger firmly into the soft skin behind Mahanon's balls, touching on _something_  there that causes Mahanon to shout, hips hitching off the bed as he comes in Bull's mouth, losing himself in the pleasure of his release and coming up dizzy and needy.

Bull straightens up and takes a seat on the bed, as Mahanon still grips Dorian's arms and struggles to get his breath back. "How you feeling, Boss?"

Mahanon swallows, and says, "Nngh." It's about all he can come up with.

"Cute," Dorian says. Mahanon blinks up at both of them as Dorian leans over and kisses Bull, open-mouthed and filthy. 

"You up for more?" Bull asks eventually, pulling Mahanon up and into his lap, his bare back resting against Bull's chest as Bull braces a massive arm around his torso. From here, Mahanon can feel Bull's arousal through his loose trousers, and- well, _Mythal'enaste_ , he knew Bull was going to be big, but... he'd never admit it, but he's starting to understand why Bull was concerned about the "logistics" of their size discrepancy.  

Then he remembers that Bull asked a question, and he nods. "Mhm. Yes, absolutely."

"Good," Bull says. He kisses Mahanon's ear, laughing as it flicks away from his lips and catching the tip between his teeth, and _fenedhis_ , Mahanon can feel himself already getting hard again. "You want Dorian to fuck you, Boss?"

Mahanon squirms a little in Bull's arms as Bull continues to tease his ears - if anything, everything's become far more sensitive after his release, almost torturously so - but manages to choke out, " _Yes._ "

"Alright then," Bull murmurs, lips pressed against Mahanon's ear, and both the heat and the vibrations of his low voice make Mahanon gasp and shiver. To Dorian, Bull says, "Might be easier on him if you get him ready, yeah?"

"Agreed," Dorian says.

Mahanon lets Bull arrange him on the bed, facedown and ass up. It's an utterly revealing position, but he's far too punch-drunk from his orgasm and aroused for what's to come to care overly much.

"You're still..." Mahanon says to Bull, losing track of his words halfway through the sentence and giving up to tug at Bull's trousers instead. "These- I want them off."

Bull laughs, fishing something out of his pocket and handing it to Dorian before sliding off the bed. "Pretty demanding for such a cute little elf, wouldn't you say, Dorian?"

"I like it," Dorian says, and Mahanon hears the sound of a lid being unscrewed from what could be a glass jar. "It's fun watching _you_  get pushed around for once. Deep breath, Mahanon, there's a good lad."

Mahanon breathes, flinching at the odd feeling of something cool and slick being applied to his entrance and grateful he took the time to learn a rather helpful little spell for cleaning one's insides before such an activity. He'd performed it while Bull was fetching Dorian, in the hopes that Bull might return and fuck him senseless anyway, and it helps to boost his confidence a little as Dorian presses the tip of his finger against him, and gently works his way in.

It's not as uncomfortable as he feared it might be - maybe a little strange, but not painful. The stretch comes with a delicious kind of heat as Dorian carefully works him open, almost a little too slowly. It seems like forever before Dorian rubs his back, and says, "Ready for another?"

"Mhm," Mahanon murmurs lazily, enjoying the feeling of Dorian's fingers inside him and pressing back into Dorian's hand for more. Dorian laughs and gives it to him, and this time the stretch does toe that line between enticing and uncomfortable. Mahanon turns his head and distracts himself with the sight of a now fully-naked Bull folding up his trousers and laying them on the chaise, his back to the bed. His skin is a patchwork of scars from his shoulders down to the base of his back, one knee misshapen and a little mangled from some old injury from long ago.

Then Bull turns, and Mahanon realizes with an awed and decidedly intimidated thump of awareness that the _enormity_ of Bull was slightly understated before; the qunari isn't even half-hard.

"Fuck me sideways," Mahanon finds himself saying, a little weakly.

Dorian laughs and pats him on the rump. "Not this time, I'm afraid, but I'll keep it in mind."

Bull just grins at him, and shrugs. "Told you so."

"I could take it," Mahanon says, wincing as Dorian scissors his fingers to deepen the stretch.

"I don't doubt it," Dorian says, adding a little more slick to his fingers. "Another?"

Mahanon nods, gritting his teeth a little as Dorian works three fingers into him. It feels good, it- _fuck_ , it absolutely feels good, but the burn of the stretch is definitely something that takes getting used to.

"We'll train you up for it," Bull says, sitting back down on the bed and ruffling Mahanon's hair. 

Mahanon grunts at him, then lets out a long hiss as Dorian finds a sweet spot deep inside him, barely teasing the tip of a finger over it. "Fuck, that-"

"There?" Dorian asks, and rubs over the spot again. This time Mahanon's vision blurs as his whole body is racked with helpless pleasure, waves of it emanating from that one spot.

The words that little spot wrings from his mouth are filthy and pleading, curses and prayers until he's writhing back against Dorian's fingers, his mind a hazy fog of need. One particularly powerful thrust back against Dorian's hand hits him at a perfect angle, and he chokes out a helpless cry as he's nearly brought right over the edge again.

"He looks about ready," Bull says from somewhere very far away, and he feels large, strong hands take hold of him, fingers wrapped around his chest just under his arms and hauling him up until he's kneeling, dangling from Bull's hands.

"I-I'm close," he manages to gasp out, whining as Dorian pulls his fingers out of him, wanting them _back._  "I'm not going to last very long."

"We'll see about that," Bull says. He kisses Mahanon, and Mahanon can still taste a little of himself on Bull's tongue as Bull reaches down between them and takes hold of Mahanon's now fully-hard length. Mahanon pleads with Bull in half-formed words, knowing one stroke is likely to push him over again, but Bull shushes him, and wraps his fingers tightly around the base of Mahanon's cock. 

He feels one of Dorian's arms slide around his waist to brace him, Dorian's lips against his ear. "Ready?"

Mahanon nods, bracing himself, still balancing on the knifepoint of his release.

Dorian presses in slowly, filling Mahanon and dragging torturously over that deeply sensitive part of him. He buries his face in Bull's shoulder, gripping hard at Dorian's arm and feeling his release build and swell, ready to spill over.

But it never comes.

He jerks a little in Dorian's arms, in Bull's punishing grip, and realizes that Bull is keeping him from coming with his tight hold on Mahanon's cock.

"I've got you," Bull murmurs into Mahanon's hair, scratching his nails over Mahanon's back as Mahanon pants against his skin. "We've got you. Not till I say though, okay?"

This is going to kill him, Mahanon thinks, because he's fairly sure if he doesn't come right the fuck now he's going to explode. He can feel sparks crawling over his skin, wondering absently how they aren't bothering Bull until he feels Dorian's hand come around to rest against his throat, holding him tightly and drawing all the errant bits of magic into his palm.

Mahanon breathes, and nods.

Dorian starts to move, and Mahanon's thankful for Dorian's hold on him as well as Bull providing a wall of flesh to lean against because otherwise he'd be a boneless heap. As it is, there's some kind of divine torment in this, being held right on the edge of release and unable to do anything but _feel_. He tries to hold himself together, tries not to writhe and squirm in the arms of his lovers, but his rational mind is rapidly becoming a secondary thing as sensation overtakes him.

Dorian murmurs to him, lips brushing his ears, voice a low, breathless growl that Mahanon falls apart to. Words like "beautiful," and "perfect," and "so sweet, so good for me," it's almost too much but fuck, Mahanon doesn't want it to stop. Wants release more than anything, but somehow wants to stay suspended in this deliciously _good_  space for as long as he can. 

Dorian picks up his pace, hips snapping against Mahanon as he builds to his own climax. Mahanon cries out as Bull ducks his head down and starts to lick and suck at Mahanon's nipples, that rough tongue absolutely killing him in all the best ways as he plays with some of the most sensitive parts of him. He finds himself begging again, all mixed in with desperate moans and cries and shit, maybe Bull was right about them hearing him in the courtyard below but _fuck_  if he gives a single shit about the Inquisition right this moment. None of that matters, it all pales in comparison, he can barely bring it to mind.

Dorian groans Mahanon's name, slowing to a few short, powerful thrusts. Mahanon claws at Bull's shoulder, almost sobbing with frustrated _need_ , eyes prickling with tears.

"Alright, Boss, alright," Bull murmurs. He wraps his arm around both Mahanon and Dorian, pulling them close against him, and loosens his grip on Mahanon's cock, giving it a long, firm stroke. "Now."

Mahanon can't even give voice to the shout stuck in his throat as he's overtaken again, but this time- it's somehow more intense, his release hitting him like a full-body shock, like a lightning bolt of pleasure crawling up and over his skin. He feels himself tense helplessly around Dorian as he rides the waves of his release, and then he feels Dorian's arms tighten around him, a warm wetness filling him up as Dorian comes deep inside him.

"Nice," Bull says softly, and Mahanon clings to him- his voice, his fingers still grasping Bull's shoulder, even as he presses back against Dorian as well. "Very nice."

Dorian laughs a little, sounding lazy and well-sated. He eases himself out of Mahanon, who whimpers at the loss.

"Here," Bull says, helping Mahanon lay back on the bed. Mahanon's not quite sure what he's expecting - or if he has any brains left to expect anything at all - but he certainly isn't anticipating it when Bull folds him nearly in half, and starts to lick at his stretched hole.

He keens and grips the sheets, instinctually trying to squirm away from that rough tongue as Bull toys with the oversensitive skin of his entrance, but Bull holds him fast in his arms and allows him no quarter. It feels good, it feels _unbearable,_  it feels- Mahanon can't think anymore, the air punched out of him a little as Bull dips his tongue _into_  him, cleaning out Dorian's spend. He groans against Mahanon's flesh, and through bleary eyes Mahanon can see Dorian press himself up against Bull, kissing his shoulder and reaching down to pleasure him with his hand.

It doesn't take very long for both of them to come, nearly at the same time - Bull panting and grunting, still licking over Mahanon's hole, Mahanon wrung-out and breathless and utterly wrecked, the last few drops of spend he has dripping weakly from his untouched cock as he moans breathlessly through his final climax.

He's not sure he stays fully conscious through the next few minutes, only dropping into awareness once or twice as Dorian holds him, carefully wiping him down with a damp cloth produced seemingly from nowhere while Bull strips down the bed of the sheets they've effectively ruined. He presses into Dorian's arms, needing that closeness with an odd kind of desperation that's so very different from the kind of desperation he was feeling earlier.

"Please don't leave," he finds himself murmuring senselessly, turning his face into Dorian's shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dorian says softly, stroking his hair.

Mahanon reaches back, searching, and then Bull is there, scooping both Dorian and Mahanon into his arms as he settles back against the pillows, pulling a light blanket over the three of them.

"Everyone comfy?" he asks, and Mahanon nods, finding himself smiling stupidly and utterly unable to stop. A gentle rumbling starts from low within his chest, and there's no stopping that either, even if it predictably causes Dorian and Bull to chuckle at him. "You seem pretty pleased, Boss."

"Shush, you," Mahanon purrs happily. He twines his fingers with Dorian's, snuggling in closer against Bull's side. "I think I'm going to pass out now. Possibly for the next three years."

"Leliana and Josephine will be ever so annoyed with us," Dorian says, sounding cheerily unrepentant as he continues to pet Mahanon's hair, occasionally fondling an ear and grinning as this deepens Mahanon's purr. "We're absolutely going to be locked up in the dungeons for debauching the Lord Inquisitor."

"Th'Lord Inquisitor says _shush_ ," Mahanon mumbles, still grinning. "Deal with it tomorrow. Or never. I say never."

"Never it is, then," murmurs Bull, kissing Dorian's cheek, then Mahanon's forehead. "Night, Boss."

But Mahanon is already very much asleep, still purring, and does not reply. 

**Author's Note:**

> WOW. THAT TOOK FIVE YEARS. Threesomes are hard to write, okay?
> 
> I've mentioned this in past works, but I styled Mahanon off the ancient people of Ireland, most of whom were small and dark-skinned. The Sliabh clan is one I absolutely made up to support this headcanon and his backstory, and is based off Irish language and tradition. The knots in the vallaslin on Mahanon's chest are references to Celtic art and knotwork.
> 
> Props and thanks to everyone who's expressed interest in these goofs, both in this series, and my other FenHawke series (Heart Says Go and Child, the Darkness Will Rise aka Wolf Family which- yes, I'm eventually getting back to that, I promise!). Some fantastic tumblr users who actively encouraged this particular piece were GrimSister and TheRealMnemo - both of them are amazing people and I suggest checking them out for a good time 5000%. Also want to give a shout-out to Gothic-Princess-Witch, who's just so incredibly sweet and encouraging. Please please send her a little love if you're on the damn blue website - she deserves it, trust me. 
> 
> If you want to see more of these assholes, or just want to know more about them, let me know either here or at foxnonny.tumblr.com. I'm always down to chat about them, because I love them, and I love my small gay son Mahanon to death. I am planning more stories with them in the future, but in the meantime, they have modern day cameos in my Heart Says Go longfic and canon-ish cameos in Child, the Darkness Will Rise, so feel free to check those series out.
> 
> Love, love, love you all, and man I hope the porn was good because I put off two final essays to write it and now I have to go do that and I'm probably going to die <333


End file.
